RRST, Handicapped Huntsman of Mistral (A RWBY Fanfiction)
by Anakin80042
Summary: They just wanted to go to school. Forget their past lives. Yet, when you enroll at a school full of superpowers, weapons, and mysterious teachers, it's kind of hard to avoid trouble. And with their disabilities, old memories, and each other to deal with, their troubles only get worse. Though their greatest troubles maybe just getting Shrio Tama to stop making them do pushups.
1. Prologue (Season 5 first If not, skip)

-Prologue- (Look, if this comes out wrong, this is my first time doing this, okay!)

A year before the Vytal festival

"Come in" were the words Lionheart came to regret as soon as he saw the visitor was Shiro. His last name was private, just like his intentions to be here. In retrospect, Shiro shouldn't have been this intimidating. He looked like any other businessman: a dark black suit, blood-red tie, and silver watch on his wrist. Unlike most businessmen, his hair was a rat's nest, his ordinary briefcase was the last thing many grim ever saw, and his dark-brown gaze unsettled any bandit. Likewise, it was perfectly reasonable why Lionheart's beard was dripping wet. Unfortunately, he had to assume Shiro was here on official business, and not to murder him. "What brings you around here?" He asked. Rudely enough, Shiro simply surveyed the office. The new bookcases made to snugly fit against the circular walls, added with the painter's touch of purple, must've all seen alien to a man who'd been here multiple times. But this time was different.

"Nice. I thought the renovations would never be done." Shiro muttered.

"Well, yes. I cannot express how happy I am to be able to sleep in my office. Having to walk all the way from my home was…tedious"

Shiro snorted, "If you ask me, it was a waste of resources." He let his hand brush through his hair: A tendency that Leo noticed he'd do when he was distressed and had recently become more common.

Shiro sighed, "Look, I came here to make absolutely sure on your decision

"Which one?"

"The Handicapped act. The one where you removed AIAP from Haven's rubric? Amongst the other, questionable choices."

"Yes. I understand that Atlas considers this as a violation of our alliance, but I'm sure they'll come to see reason."

"I doubt Ironwood would ever see reason if it was tapped onto every Atlesian knight's as…

"Agreed, but to be fair, he still believes that Mistral is reliant on Atlas. Which it no longer does, of course. Also, please avoid any obscenities."

"Sorry. It's just that, yes, I understand his rank means little in the end-goal, and he's not the most tactful person. Still, it's bothersome to listen to some of his 'suggestions'." He sighed, and once again brushed his hand through his messy hair. "Fortunately, he's more concerned about Atlas than Mistral, just like the Atlas council. So we're in the green. I just came to confirm that this is what you really wanted."

"Absolutely," Leo responded, "because I, like Ozpin, believe that all people should have the same opportunities to become Huntsman, despite their disabilities."

"And besides, if they pass the entrance exam, they'll surely aspire to greatness." Shiro nodded in agreement. He had personal experience on the determination.

"So as far as I can see, I convince the Atlas council that revoking AIAP (Atlas Inspection for Application Process) does not mean we are not violating our pre-war alliance. We are simply opening new boundaries as an independent land. They approve, and we have plenty of more students coming to our school this year."

"As planned."

"All right. I'll go tell the Atlas council, in the morning."

On that note, Shiro left for the door, until curiosity got the better of him.

"One last question: Are you sure the change of location is, wise?"

"Whatever could you mean?"

"What I mean is, are you sure the change in location won't result in any fatalities?" Strange enough, Lionheart face began to turn pale.

"Yes. I'm sure we're not inviting our future students to their deaths. Trust me, we'll have our astounding medical team watching them." Leo let out a weak smile. It was obvious that Leo was hiding something, but the usually determined Shiro just wanted a good night's rest. With that, he heaved a heavy sigh.

"Well, I hope you're true to your words. Have a good night, Leonardo." And with that, Shiro closed the door behind him.

"Well, that could've gone better," Frank said to Leo, his voice emitting from the scroll on Leo's desk. It wasn't his true name, but the one Leo nicknamed him with after learning of his experiments. "If you hadn't been such a klutz, you could've convinced him that the location was simply in accordance with the Handicapped act. Oh well, that's another problem on your hands. Speaking about problems…"

"*sigh* what now?"

"Just a simple task. I'm sending our special witch, along with her adorable fan club, to Haven." All the hairs (and that's a lot) on Leo's body tensed up. Leo's first thought was what he had done wrong to deserve this. That was until he remembered the situation he was in. "Oh calm down. She's just posing as a student until the Vytal festival. It's not like Cinder," Leo tensed up again, "is coming to execute you. It would be hilariously ironic if you ask me."

"Haha," Leo let out a weak laugh.

"Oh cheer up! You've spent too much time in that office. Developing that virus, sabotaging Mistral, oh I could go on! But really, I think you need someone to help you."

"And that would be…"

"Me! I'm supposed to escort Cinder to Haven anyway, so I decided to drop by, see how everything's going."

"But, how will you…"

"I'll pose as a professional doctor from Vale. It's not like I'll be lying anyway. Besides, I need to make sure everything is going to plan."

"Yes. As planned."

"Good. I'll be arriving around the same time as the entrance exams. Don't do anything stupid." On that note, Frank ended the call. At least that's what he wanted him to think. After Leo was sure Frank had hung up, he rested his head on his desk and let out a weak cry.

It wasn't until midnight did Leo decided to look through his office windows. They were usually blindfolded to prevent anyone watching him, but the view was amazing. You could see most of Mistral from here. One of the perks of having Haven academy on a cliffside. All the tiny, terracotta houses dotted the landscape like fireflies at this time. Leo distinctly remembered that the houses were built by Mistral's best architects alongside Atlas's best engineers. It wasn't obvious, but those roofs hid solar panels that made blackouts rare. Unfortunate for him.

Unfortunate that he would have to see it burnt. But there was nothing he could do about it. He had learned that when he discovered Ozpin's age. In retrospect, Salem's group was mysterious, powerful, and constantly changing. Leo only ever found out about two of Salem's team. One was Cinder, and he barely knew anything about her. Only that she was very dedicated to Salem. The other was Frank, whose real name he never found out. Just that he became in contact with Salem after experimenting with Grim. An experience he had vaguely talked with Leo about as Frank instructed him how to install that…thing in his office.

"You know..." he'd said, as Leo gently lifted the Grim out of the box it had come in. "After serving the queen of Grim for so long, I could improve on my earlier experiments."

"Experiments?"

"Yes. Sadly, Salem has already learned from the consequences of such experiments." Suddenly, his voice became a harsh whisper. "But at least I'm still of use to her."

Leo's head felt dizzy at that fact. That Salem would discard him as soon as his services were no longer needed. But what choice did he have? Fight a useless battle, or survive for a little longer?

Suddenly, Leo's head began to throb. Stress had turned him into an old man, and he needed to sleep. Besides, he needed to prepare for the new students coming to Haven. He was still a headmaster. Before he closed the curtains, he took one last good look at Mistral. Then regretfully closed the curtains on the blissful city. Just like everything recently, it was best not to look at the past.

-End of Prologue-


	2. Chapter 1: Finally!

Author's note: I do not know how to use Author's note so two things quick:

I do not own RWBY, or any of its merchandise, characters, etc. relate to the franchise. This is a Fanfic, and if you were expecting another " falls again", then you're on the wrong site.

Some of these characters are actually originally mines, such as the first character in this chapter. Yet, for you run-into-a-RWBY-character lovers, they will actually interact with RWBY characters. At one point or another. Nothing inappropriate though, because I am not the type of person who empties their wallet for Titanfall 2 waifu pillows (it's actually a thing).

Enjoy. And if you criticize, at least do it politely. AND NO UGANDA KUNKLES GIFS!

-Chapter 1- Finally here - Published by Anakin80042-your welcome-

Russel awoke to the sound of the intercom's voice, as it played the pre-programmed sound of a woman's voice.

"Attention all passengers. Prepare for landing, and have a nice day in Mistral."

Finally. Russel thought they would never arrive. The journey to Mistral from Beacon had been treacherous. Lancers, Beowolves, and worst of all, boredom. Really, the thrill of the fighting ursla's is lost when dozens of other to-be-huntsman have already killed it. Maybe walking to Mistral would've been more exciting…..

Nevertheless, he was finally here. In Mistral. He looked through the massive windows of the Bullhead, and what he saw was amazing.

In contrast to Beacon, Mistral had buildings resembling the type of architecture common before the war. For instance, 2-floor houses dotted the city of Mistral. He tried to describe what they looked like, but all he could come up with was "Chinese-like". Weird word. On the other hand, this pattern wasn't consistent everywhere. For instance, a massive dust factory broke the nostalgia with the colored smoke that poured out of its chute. Interestingly enough, the factory's walls were proudly painted pure white, only disturbed by the portrait of a snowflake: The Shnee dust company symbol. Likewise, living in a city with Faunis, the logo was also covered in crude, blood-colored skulls, graffiti, and scratch marks. Russel couldn't really blame them.

Yet this factory wasn't even the biggest building in Mistral. Not close. That building was on top of cliff; overlooking the entire city. That was the Haven academy. A massive set of buildings with their roofs painted in Haven's main color: Purple. The bullhead was overlooking it, and Russel couldn't wait to finally land. After a month of overcrowded bathrooms, horrible internet, and general boredom, they would finally la…

"Attention all passengers," The intercom began again. "Due to docking problems, landing will suspended temporarily. Please standby until further notice." At first Russel paused. Then his eye began to tick. Then the words finally processed into his brain, and any positive feelings he had before had disappeared.

"DAMMIT!" He yelled.

-1 hour later-

When the Bullhead FINALLY landed, Russel made sure his aura was up. Mistral already had more huntsman than any other place, but since AIAP was removed several months ago, the Bullhead was severely crowded with to-be-students. Students that were all armed to the teeth with sharp weapons. As the left the bullhead, complaints sprang throughout the crowd of students. One instance nearly made Russel laugh.

"Hey! Watch where you're aiming that thing!"

"Can't!"  
"Why?"

"I'm blind you moron!"

"Then why are you using a gun as a weapon!"

At one point, Russel was knocked against a random person.  
"Excuse me…" He began, turning his head to look at the person he'd bumped into. But the thing was, there wasn't anyone there. But, there had been. Russel had seen his face, but had he?

 _Okay, what did he look like?_ Russel asked himself. _Green-eyed, dark-brown hair and pale skin._ He had done this practice often, being a forgetful person. Yet, he remembered the person's face clearly. He even knew the person's expression: Surprise, in a happy way.

What the heck?

This confusion stayed with him as he left the Bullhead and followed the massive crowd into the famous "Great Hall" of Haven. He only remembered what he was doing when he stepped foot into the Great Hall. Looking around, Russel realized it was a cylindrical building, draped in delicate linens and colors. At the end of the room. There were twin staircases on opposite sides. Where they led didn't matter. What was more interesting to him was the statue of some person (probably during the war) beneath the staircases; fitting perfectly into the leftover space. And on the platform above that statue, was the famed headmaster of Haven, Lionheart. Or, as he was famously known for his constant tendency to run during combat, kitten little.

Lionheart tentatively approached the microphone, staring at it like it was a dangerous snake, then he finally spoke into it.

"Hello everyone. It's so nice to see that so many people are willing to make the world a better place. As such, I know you're all tired from the journey here, so I won't waste too much of your time. I just need to make a few new announcements."

"First off, I would like to welcome a new teacher at Haven academy. Frank Amoeba." A man steps out from the shadows behind Lionheart, as if he was lurking in them the whole time. His skin is a light-chocolate color, and his hair resembling a black mop. If each mop strand had been smooth to perfection. He wore a dark-purple coat accompanied by a dark-red tie. Really, it's no surprise Russel didn't notice him in the shadows. Apparently, neither did Lionheart. He gave a small yelp that was intensified by the microphone, yet nobody erupted into a laugh, not even Russel. To everyone, the man seemed like a witch doctor waiting for his next patient.

"Yes. Thank you Lionheart for the kind introduction." Frank waved Lionheart away from the microphone, and he obeyed.

"If you didn't read the information on your scrolls, I will be filling in for the clear lack of medical specialists at Haven. Maybe it's because of the sheer number of Huntsman that make us all expendable, but I'm just a doctor." He paused, taking a look at the murmuring crowd before him.

"Expendable?"

"Isn't it ironic he's a doctor?"

"When is this going to end?" That was Russel. He didn't really care that this stereotypical dark-twilight fanfiction writer was going to teach them how to be good doctors. He sucked at medical courses anyway.

"All right, that's enough!" Lionheart interrupted, retaking his possession of the microphone. "May I please have your attention for another announcement?" The crowd continued their mutterings, but regardless of that, Lionheart continued. "My second announcement is that the entrance exam location is no longer in the Cherry Grove. Instead, it will be taking place at the Junkyard. The Junkyard. Not to be confused with the Junkyard restaurant down the street.  
 _(What does this restaurant look like? A Junkyard, with hamburgers. Literally, it's in the name)_

If Lionheart was trying to mollify the crowd, he succeeded in doing the complete opposite. At first the crowd abruptly went into silence. Then muttering crowd became a mob, for the Junkyard was known more for its legends than being a junkyard for Atlas tech.

"What about the Grim there? I've heard the Junkyard holds some of the most unique grim in Remnant!"

"Forget that! What about the legendary grim monster, Mrs. Trucy?" One replied.

"I've heard it's like a maze-one you can never escape…." Another shouted out.

"That's maze-jogger you idiot!" Funny enough, Russel noticed it was the same blind girl on the Bullhead who said that.

"All right, all right, everyone calm down!" Lionheart yelled. Well, as well as a kitten like him could (BURNED). "I can assure you, we've had our huntsman scour the Junkyard in the past months, and have spotted no signs of this 'Mrs. Trucy'."  
"And if Mrs. Trucy, or any other myth actually appears, we'll have our best huntsman on guard. I assure you, they'll be on the scene in no time."

 _As if they'll actually be people,_ Russel thought. When he looked around, all he could see were the latest Atlesian Knights surrounding everyone like policemen. Maybe that's why they were here. In fact, the only elite huntsman he could see were Lionheart and Frank. He would've asked this question to Lionheart, but the crowd was already in a frenzy, and he didn't want to make it worse.

"So on that note," Lionheart continued, "I would like to say that you will all be fine. And that tomorrow, you will all be taking this test. Have a good rest tonight, and may you all pass." With that, Lionheart left through the corridor behind him, as Frank stayed for one last speech. He brought the microphone to his mouth, and said, "I'll be one of the huntsmen at the entrance exam making sure none of you die. Just so you know, I don't work with anesthetics. So try not to break a leg." And with that note, Frank followed Lionheart through the corridor.

As he walked down there though, from where Russel was standing, he noticed a man laying against a wall. He wore a black suit, a blood-red tie, and held a briefcase between his arms. As Frank passed him, the man stared at Frank. Frank calmly returned the gaze, and the two men locked eyes; each one filled with hostility.

But no sooner did the both men avert their gaze, and carry on with their business.

Only later would Russel learn that that Shiro Tama's trust was a difficult thing to earn. And that Frank was only centimeters away from being shot by a rocket launcher.

-End of Ch1-FINALLY (for me) -


	3. Chapter 2: A World on Fire

**Author Notes: I, Anakin80042, say a disclaimer. Because apparently, being on a site where we only write about other's stories requires disclaimers: RWBY is not owned by me, nor do I own any of the characters relevant to it. This includes characters like Ruby, Yang, and so on. Though I do have original characters in this story….**

 **Likewise for the prologue of this story. Anyway, good readings, yadayadayada, and I am not a fan of Star wars.**

 **Though the TV series "Clone Wars" was good…**

-Chapter 2- A World on Fire (fallout 4 fans… Aye….. AYYEEEEEEEEE) -

The sun was shining through the windows of his house. What house, where? Russel didn't care. All he cared was that he was home with Mom and Dad. What were their names? He had it on the tip of his lounge, but wasn't in the mood to try and remember. He was just in the family living room, trying to fit two ogel blocks against each other. They just didn't fit.

As Russel messed with the two blocks, he heard the door rang. He saw mom go towards the door, and was greeted promptly by two women. One carried a creepy mask at her side, the other had a hoodie on. Funny that it wasn't even Halloween yet.

Mom talked to them, but impolitely kept them from entering the house. Maybe it was the weapons by their sides? He wanted to know so badly. Sadly, he couldn't hear what they were talking about, so he trudged on towards them as far as his big-boy feet could go. Once he reached the door, he looked up at the tall ladies.

"Excuse me…" The hoodie lady began, but suddenly stopped. She turned her gaze to look at me, and gave a warm smile. She looked so nice with those big, silver eyes. Not like the other lady, who was looking at him with the eyes of a predator, and gripping that mask of hers. She looked like she was about to say something, but she was rudely interrupted by a howling. He turned to see that down the street, a wave of grim were roaring down the street. They looked just like the pictures he had seen of Grim in his books, except scarier, and no longer flat. The girls that were talking to mom drew their weapons, and rushed to greet them in furious combat. It was during this time that his Mom snatched him, and dragged him away from the door, for safety, or sacrifice? He didn't get his answer, for in the process, Mom accidently hit his head against the door frame, and he fell asleep.

When he woke up, he found the entire house around him destroyed. He couldn't see his parents. He hoped they were safe. He hoped that the two ladies fighting in the distance had protected them. He could see them now: One was swiping at the Grim with a sword on fire. Maybe that's why everything was burning. In the meantime, the Hood lady was running around another massive grim, taking shots and swings at its legs. When the beast finally fell, he could see her search for her next enemy. Instead, she found him. She rushed to his side, those silver eyes full of concern. She checked him for any injuries, but he was surprisingly fine. She gave him a warm smile, warmer than the fire surrounding the house. Then, just when she was about to return to the fight, a sword impaled her through her chest. It was so thorough, he could see the sword: A curved blade made by some dark substance, constantly sending up smoke.

So far, everything seemed to be silent. The Grim had only made as much sound as a whisper, His sobs were mute. But when she was impaled, he could hear her cry in agony as the whole world began to turn white. The last moments he remembered was someone standing over that women, over him, and swinging that same sword at his left arm.

That's when Russel woke up. For real.

-6:00 AM-Mistral-Haven-350 days to Vytal Festival-

Russel rose from his bed. Not because of his dreams, but because he had set his Scroll's alarm clock to max volume. He quickly set it to snooze, and lay back in bed-his breathing heavy. He usually had this 'nightmare' if you could call it, every so often. The length and situation of the dream varied from time to time. Once, everyone had sounded just like his mother. In another dream, everyone was wearing the same mask Halloween girl had worn, yet the idea was still the same. That women had died, his parents had died, and his arm was inevitably cut off at the shoulder. He looked to the left, and all you could see was a black stump. Unless, of course, he covered it with his shirt sleeve.

Still suffering this dream at age 16 would defiantly raise questions. Have you seen a therapist? Are you suffering PTSD? Have you tried forgetting? Yet Russel knew the answer to all those questions: Where he and Hazel lived was pretty secluded from civilization, PTSD was all he could think could've caused the dream, and it's hard to forget an incident that took your arm.

It's also hard to forget something when you have the thing that took your arm. Out of habit, Russel checked his main weapon, Gearald: Two swords connected to a massive gear around the handle. Its sheath held a smaller, third sheathe: Jirimu's Katana. Hazel had found it when she had rescued him from that wreck, and decided to take it. Because, as Russel would later learn, Hazel as much social skills as Grim had the ability to properly talk. But Russel kept it anyway: You never knew when you might need a smoke-bomb. Besides, it reminded him that he wasn't invincible, despite it being the possible reason for his recurring nightmares, which sucked. On the bright side, the nightmare helped give Russel clues as to who was responsible for the death of his parents.

It was the reason he had wanted to become a Huntsman, and not a conspiracy theorists.

But the nightmares also meant he would occasionally wake up in a heavy sweat, like today. So they still sucked.

After making sure Jirimu didn't set off any smoke alarms, Russel surveyed at the room around him. He always made sure he knew his surroundings well. The room was simple: A single white bed, mahogany table, and a bedside lamp (he couldn't sleep in complete darkness. Go figure). They were sleeping in the now-empty dorms and guest houses until the entrance exams started. After which, they would form teams through some kind of process, and train to become Huntsman. He was sure he could do this.

With his morning ritual out of the way, Russel began to get dressed out of his pajamas (sorry to disappoint you porn lovers), and checked the time. 6:45 AM, plenty of time to…wait.

Weren't the Bullheads heading to the Junkyard at 6:50 AM? A sudden feeling of dread passed over Russel, and grabbed Gearald and Jirimu, slipped into his pants, and ran out the sliding door. Or rather, into the sliding door.

"Gah! Dammit! Forgot the whole 'passcode thing'" Russel murmured as he hastily entered his password, Hazel, and ran through the corridor; hoping he could make it to the Bullheads in time.

\- Enter Sao Suno-age 17-


	4. Chapter 3: Sao Suno is Baerable

-Chapter 3- Sao Suno is Baerable-

Sao was walking down the hallway when some idiot ran past her.  
"Sorry, going to be late!" He yelled, shoving me aside like some puppet. She watched him run down the hallway, well, as well as a blind girl could watch someone. She was still going over what he had said.

 _Late for what?_ She thought, _The Bullheads leave at 7:00._ Shrugging the thought of the poor child aside, she continued to walk to her destination: Brendon. She felt the wall, until she finally reached his room number, and knocked on the door. Soon afterwards, she was face-to-face with Baer. A charismatic smile, light-brown hair, and jeans tight enough to make any girl sigh at such a beautiful face.

Not her though. Her echolocation also told her his heart rate had sped up, his face was pouring with sweat, and the pants were a size too short for him.

"Hi Baer. Just wanted to check up on you." She said with an innocent smile.

"Oh, Sao! I'm doing just fine, like, really great. Just getting warmed up for the big day! Ha-ha" Baer replied.

"Oh really? Then what's with the crumbled tissues on your on your bed?" Sao said innocently. He took a slow, 180 degree turn to see that his bed was indeed covered in tissues.

"Oh, that was when I was exercising. For today. Just practicing my sweat glands."

"You can't physically train your sweat glands to sweat more. It's a bodily function, one that you've obviously mastered." There was an absolute silence in the air. Finally, Baer couldn't take it, and just covered his face with his tears and hands.

"I can't take it!" He began, tears in his eyes. "What if we die? What if Mrs. Trucy is real!" Sao put a reassuring hand on his hulky, massive body. Baer had always had anxiety issues: it had begun when bullies at school persistently teased him, and he actually took their messages to heart. Now he was just a drinking fountain waiting for some jerk to turn him on (That came out wrong). Pretty ironic that he was the one with anxiety issues though…

"Calm down Baer. It's just one entrance exam. It's literally just walking through some Junkyard…"

"With numerous legends, death toll rates, and zero cell service," Baer finished, showing that his capacity to circumspect was a horrible skill for someone like him to have. Sao paused, then continued in a soothing voice.

"Relax, one Junkyard cannot be that big (Counter-example: Overwatch's Junkertown). And if we make it out, _alive,"_ she teased, "Then we can be on the same team! No more of me having to walk into the boy's bathroom to calm you down. I'll be like a moth to a flame!" Baer winced, for he also had a fears of bugs. Despite that, he saw Baer's heartbeat slow down, and his breathing become regular.

"Yes, no longer having you 'accidently' stumbled into the boys bathroom would be great," Baer chuckled, nostalgic of simpler times. "But I'm, just stressed. I mean, I had to become a huntsman. It's one of the only jobs where my actions do the work; the highest paying too."

"Shut up about respect Baer. Enough people respect you." That was the very truth. She remembered the first day she'd come, and someone wanted to take her bandana off. The one that covered her eye Kakashi-style. When she'd said no, the guy had tried to take it off by force.

Baer was the only one out of the crowd of kids who tackled that kid, and broke enough bones to send him to the hospital. The other's kids bones. The guy had issues, okay?

But he was a loyal, great guy with issues, and Sao couldn't be happier to have such a great friend. Even if he also had a fear of bugs, termites, rumors, and his own strength.

Baer wiped a tear off his eye. "You really think so?"  
"Yeah, totally! I respect you, that janitor who you helped respects you, that one mugger whose 'purse' you returned respected you…" They both hurled into a fit of laughter, erasing any sense of Baer's earlier stress.

He finally stop looking nervous, and gave a brave face. "You're right. I've done great things already, besides that whole, mugger, business." His voice trailed off at that. "But still, it's nice to know some people don't see me as a joke." He began to close the door. "See you at the Bullheads, Sao." And the door shut with a silent SLID, yet the bond of true friendship stayed in the air.

-1 hour later-

Unfortunately, Baer wasn't able to hold up on his promise, as they both got separated into different Bullheads. Still, at least there was a chance they'd run into each other. She got put in loading bay B, which was built into the Cliffside Haven stood on. When Sao reached it, she saw massive stalagmites hanging from the roof. They would've been normal, if they weren't also filled with dust crystals: Illuminating the otherwise ark cave.

"Built pre-war, launch base, used to be dust mine…" One student said: His black hair heavily contrasting his pale complexion. He looked at everyone with some weird, absent minded look. He didn't seem at all aware that he was hauling a bicycle on his back.  
"You know how this place was built?" She asked him, but he just simply stared at her, and reached into his pockets.

"Chocolate?" He randomly said, offering her a Nuka bar, then simply put the Nuka bar in her hands.

"Uh, thanks?' but the guy was already walking away. What a weirdo.

She continued walking towards loading bay B, until she saw the Bullhead. Or, what was supposed to be a bullhead. The vehicle's paint was stripped off like a peeled orange, accompanied by the constant stench of fuel protruding from the thing. The thing literally had a blown gasket, and the engine coughed like an old man with lung cancer. Among these observations, Sao also noticed that:

That jerk who had run into her earlier was on this Bullhead, eating from a bowl of rice.

There was no pilot in the cockpit.

As she approached the jerk, the guy finally recognized her, and held out an awkward arm shake.

"Oh, hi. Um… Sorry about bumping into you earlier?" He apologize weakly.

She considered ignoring him, but remembered that she didn't know how they would decide teams. Who knows? Maybe you got paired with all the people you pissed off? She decided she didn't want to add to that list, and responded with a friendly remark.

"I think you should be apologizing to that stomach of yours. Rice is not a good breakfast."

"You're kidding, right?" He argued, "I've been eating this stuff since I was born, and look at me now!"  
"Yeah, some weedy guy without a left arm" She immediately covered her mouth. Stupid, impulsive mouth! Fortunately, the guy just gave a gallant chuckle.

"The two aren't related. Besides, we're in Mistral, MISTRAL. One look at their farmland, and they might as well be screaming 'welcome to the rice field mother…"

"Hello?" A voice from a rusty screen inside the Bullhead came to life. On it, was none other than Lionheart.

At least, that's what Sao assumed. Only the audio was playing. "Is this thing on?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'm a doctor, not a programmer. Get Shiro to do it!" Frank muttered over the screen."

"Oh, I couldn't now, could I?" Shiro mocked, "I don't have, what do they call it? A surgeons hands."  
"Ha-ha mock me all you want," Frank muttered.  
"Serves you right. It was your idea to work the bloody thing." Sao heard Shiro press a single button, and the screen turned to life. "But why do I even bother arguing…"

"Oh, good, it's working. Good morning students!" Lionheart began, "If you haven't already noticed, these Bullheads will take you to the Junkyard."  
"We know that," said everyone in the Bullhead.

"And you are all curious as to when the exam starts. Well, once you've reached the Junkyard, all will be explained. So sit tight, and enjoy the ride."

-30 minutes later-

After the excruciatingly long ride on the rust-bucket-of-a-plane Bullhead, Sao could finally "see" the Junkyard.

If she described it as a junkyard, that would be redundant. If she described it as a landscape straight from your nightmares, that would be an understatement.

Piles and piles of junk was scattered into tall, foreboding towers. The spaces between these towers acted like walkways, re-creating the claustrophobic feeling of mazes we all love. She asked a random girl about the colors.

"Just white, rusty-like, and grey." She said, "Where do you think it all comes from?"  
"Oh, it's all Atlas tech." The girl eyes widened.  
"Really!"  
"Oh yeah. When Atlas made a treaty for Mistral, in return for their protection, Atlas was allowed to dump all of its 'products' into a certain sector of Mistral."  
"Grim moved in here, not knowing the place was deserted. With the lack of humans, and plenty of resources and time, the Grim began a unique evolution: they began to combine with the tech. I've heard the advanced grim make their trouble at Atlas supply lines every so often."  
"They tried to throw away their trash, now Atlas has even bigger problems because of it, now have an even bigger problem on their hands. Serves them right." Sao grumbled, until she felt the flick of a finger on her forehead.

"I'm from Atlas, jerk." She said, then presumed to leave Sao alone. For the second time that day, Sao face palmed.

She needed to stop being a social leper.

Sao's moment of I-am-an-idiot ended when the screen in the Bullhead lit up. Except it was zoomed in on Lionheart's nose.

"Well," Russel commented, "I'm surprised."  
"How do you not know how to operate a camera? A CAMERA!" Shiro screamed through the screen.  
"Look," Frank began, "I've been off the grid for a while now. All the new buttons are confusing!"

"What were you even doing off the grid?"

Frank paused for one, crucial second. Then he responded simply "I was studying nature in all its violent glory. Did you know that the average Beowoulf can…"

"Just, spare me the details…" Shrio moaned as he, once again, fixed the camera in one brisk move.

Lionheart, trying to look oblivious to the pandemonium around him, began talking in a cheery voice.  
"Well hello everyone! It looks like you've finally reached your destination. Now, before you know how the exam begins, we must discuss teams…"  
Everyone in the Bullhead suddenly became mute. They all knew teams lasted for your entire school year. They could affect your grades, performance, and sleep schedules. They could be your best friend, worst enemy, or just some lazy slob. He could be a famous huntsman with their own cereal, or some guy who lucked his way into Haven. Thus, knowing the formation of teams that many pro-huntsman kept secret was crucial. It could result in a long-lasting friendship, or a quick suspension from school. Essentially, it could mean the difference between successes and fail…

"The person you first set eyes on when the initiation starts is your teammate!" Lionheart said with a smile.

 _Well,_ Sao thought, _At least I can choose anyone I like._

"Now, about the test," Lionheart continued, oblivious to the frantic sounds of frustration coming from the students on the other side of his screen, "You may have noticed your Bullheads are all…horrible."

"This was on purpose. Future Huntsman have to be prepared to jump-ship at any time, by utilizing their landing strategy. Furthermore, they must be able to make good decisions during stressful times. The committee has decided to combine both by arming a bomb on every Bullhead." The frantic cries of panic turned into stone-cold silence. "You don't know when this bomb will explode, only that you must jump off before that time comes. They are all randomized, so don't use other Bullheads as an example. So good luck!" Just as Lionheart was about to turn off the video, Frank piped in.

"Just remember, that bomb is powerful enough to destroy an entire pack of massive Urslas. It has the potential to blow your entire Aura, and your arm, off at point-blank range. And if I have to sew that arm back onto the idiot who didn't learn landing strategies, then I will gladly do so without anesthetics."

And with those last words, the monitor turned off, the students went dead-silent, and a Bullhead exploded.

-End of Chapter 3-


	5. Chapter 4: Hit the Deck or Get Wrecked

-Chapter 4-Hit the Deck or get Wrecked-

-Still Sao Suno -

The Bullhead reeled from the shockwave, as a nearby Bullhead exploded into a fiery ball of molten metal, debris, and broken Aura's. In fact, a piece of metal was flying towards them.

Fast as a true huntsman, Russel whipped out his sword, and cut the incoming debris into tiny pieces.

"Okay, when I thought 'randomized' I didn't think 'unrealistic' was in the mix," Sao muttered.  
"Wicked dude!" a guy dressed in a rainbow T-shirt said. "That looked like an old Mark II Blizzard bomb right there!"  
"A, what?" Russel asked him, his brain cringing from the dude's, chill.

"A Mark II dude! They totally rocked! A classic blend of gunpowder and nitroglycerin, sparked by the slightest explosion, could make a massive BOOM! I've always wanted to see one!"

"Well, you're going to defiantly see one. In your face." Russel responded.

"Not if I can help it!" He cried, as he began a kamikaze dive towards the ground, screaming "WICKED!" as he fell.

"Wait…" Sao suddenly had a thought. She distinctly remembered that the Mark II was used during the war; it made sense for the school to reuse left-over bombs. Yet, their main purpose during the war was…

She had an idea. She ran to the front of the Bullhead, shoving people aside as she moved, until she was at the cockpit. There, she took out her spear, and drove it into the unmanned wheel. As she did so, a holographic screen of the programming that made the ship ran came to life.

"What are you doing?" Russel asked behind her, giving her a jolt of surprise.

"What I'm _doing,"_ she began, "is trying to stop this ship from blowing us sky-high."  
"But we're already flying"  
"Is this really the time for jokes?" She swiped through code after code, searching for that one detail that would save them all.

She had recalled that during the war, the Mark II Blizzard was used as a sort of kamikaze bomb. If an Atlas plane was downed in combat, it was likely to be scavenged for valuable materials and ammunitions. As such, the Atlas military developed the Blizzard to explode when the engine was deactivated without inputting a password. Failure to input the right password would cause the 'lucky' scavenger to promptly have their bones incinerated.

This is why the resources used in the bomb didn't involve Dust, and why this plane had never been gutted before.

Great part on Haven to limit their budget, AND their potential students!

Anyway, if she could find that password, hack it, then commandeer this plane, she could ride out the whole exam to the end in style.

Unless she didn't, of course.

That option was looking pretty promising. The password was meant to be entered in after landing, requiring Sao to turn off the engine. Instead, Sao would have to hack the Bullhead to make it think the engine was off, then input the password. She typed through firewall after firewall, sweat precipitating from her forehead in great gushes.

To help already dire matters, she had been able to pull up a countdown clock for when the bomb would explode.

1, freaking, minute. In bright, red, LED lights.

"Yeash, you're in some deep shist," Russel helpfully commentated. Ignoring him, Sao hacked her way into the final strings of code, and managed to gain access to the passcode. Unfortunately, it was 20 characters long, and would take much more than 50 seconds to figure it out. Already, her hopes were dropping like the other passengers were, as they too figured out that abandoning ship was better than abandoning life. With no time to loose, Sao made a choice, and ran for the hangar doors, where everyone had already jumped for it.  
"Hey! Wait! I thought you were going to hack it!" Russel called after her.

"There's no way! Can't hack the passcode!"

"Why would a bomb have a passcode?" At first, Sao thought he was a dim wit, before realizing her entire thought process had not been verbal.

Eh, she had 30 seconds. "Look," She started, "That bomb is used to make sure this heap of junk is never scavenged. If the engine is turned off, then the passcode is initiated. I can't access it in time!"

"Wait, is their like, a time limit to it?"  
"What, no! The freakin thing is like, 20 characters long!" Sao then ignored him, and positioned herself for her landing strategy. She would wait until the last 5 seconds, then jump; avoiding the blast-wave and getting as close as possible to her destination.

10 seconds left, she heard the wind ruffle through her hair red hair.

8 seconds left, she heard Russel still at the cockpit; probably trying to hack it too. Rule number one of hacking: Know that there are some things you can't, or shouldn't hack.

6 seconds left, Russel was still at the cockpit. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving him behind, but all survival instincts told her to jump for it.

5 seconds left, Sao should've jumped. But she just couldn't do it. Not only was falling blind terrifying, but she was frozen in place. It was like she was hoping some miracle would happen. Stupid girl.

4 seconds left, Sao focused all her attention on her legs, made the motions, and jum..

"HEY I DID IT!" Russel screamed just as Sao was about to jump. She lost her balance, before falling back into the rusted floor of the Bullhead.

"You did what?" Sao replied, befuddled.

"I hacked the Bullhead!" Russel peaked his head from the cockpit. "It was easy, all I had to do was reset the Bullhead's programming, then turn off the engine. Logically, this caused that passcode thingy to appear, and override the bomb explosion!"

True, that made sense. The engine shut-down was first-priority for the bomb at default settings. , instead of blowing up. Great thinking on his part to rest it; otherwise, it might've failed. On the other hand.

"You do know we need that engine to fly, right?" She asked, to which Russel responded with a confident "shoot".

The Bullhead lurched forward, as it began a steep nose-dive towards the ground. To Sao, falling in a metal coffin was much worse than just falling. As such, Sao finally launched herself out of the Bullhead, putting as much distance between the things as she possibly could. Approaching the ground, Sao threw her spear at one of the metal piles ahead of her. It became imbedded in the metal scrap, and Sao swung of it like a monkey off a tree branch. She performed a quick flip, and landed on the ground with a heavy thud; reaching up to grab her spear as it fell from its location, like a boss.

 _Phew, made it out alive,_ she thought, _I wonder what happened to Russle…_

To answer her question, she saw the crashing Bullhead in the distance; still falling

Considering it was on a full-tank, and was armed with a bomb of mass destruction, the Bullhead's landing can be described as anything but gentle.

An explosion filled the sky with reddish colors, as the shockwaves were felt even by Sao. The crashing, groaning, and grinding of metal upon metal could only be described as a song about DEATH, DESTRUCTION, and EVERYTHING HORIRBLE.

As Sao witnessed this horrifying destruction, the guilt that had begun in her stomach now filled her every muscles. For it was highly likely that Russel was either severely injured, or dead.

-Russel Samestine-

Fortunately for Russel, he wasn't some creepy fan-fic writer with no imagination. He was a huntsman, and was thus able to face any danger with confidence.

Well, with some confidence.  
"Shoot, shoot, shoot!" he screamed to himself, as the Bullhead made its dangerous descent towards the ground. Maybe it didn't help that Russel was still in the cockpit, and had a literal front-view seat of the ground coming towards him. Fortunately, Gearald was strapped onto his back. He focused most of his Aura into his head, placed his feet firmly on the 'ground', and launched himself towards the top of the Bullhead's roof, using Gearald gun's to launch himself through the metal. With a CRACK, he had effectively launched himself out of the Bullhead, and towards a cone-spiral of scrap. He thrusted his body to the side, and stuck out Gearald to catch this. This action caused him to spiral around the cone at break-neck speeds, before finally landing on the ground.

It was then, as the explosion of the Bullhead rippled throughout the Junkyard, and as the dust settled around him, it was then Russel realized that he had used his head; which had hurt. A lot

"Owowowowow…" Russel held the side of his head. Fortunately, his Aura had protected his skull from becoming a mess of bones. Unfortunately, Aura did not protect you from feeling that same pain; a pain that made Russel see two spirals.

Great, now he saw three…four…five….TEN? Russel checked his scroll: the only thing he never…rarely forgot. On it was a detailed map of the Junkyard. Due to the lack of internet, he couldn't pinpoint his location. Great thing he was surrounded by an apparently unique landscape. The whole place was dotted with metal spirals; each with holes in them. They were perfectly round, and seemed to lead deeper into the spirals than Russel had thought.

 _Why are they even there?_ He thought. _It's not like…Shoot._ Faster than you could say Grim, every single hole had been filled by those, warthog grim thingies. Their usually steel-strong spikes were replaced by actual steel, while their eyes gave off their classic blood glare.

Without warning, every single Grim began to curl into a ball; their spikes essentially creating a metallic spiked-ball. Weird enough, they didn't move an inch. In fact, they seemed to be moving into their holes. It was a perfect fit, like bullets in a…barrel.  
On cue, the ground began to shake, as every Grim was fired out of their respective holes; each on a collision course towards Russel.

Russel whipped out his sword again, and with a blood-thirsty roar, he charged at the incoming Grim.

-Cinder-

Cinder prided herself in her ability to, persuade people. It had become so much easier with the help of her Maiden powers. Well, at least most of them.  
"Why would you need to come here?" Leo had asked her, "Aren't you already capable of opening the vault?"

"It's just insurance that you're keeping everything according to plan. Just keep the lies coming, and everything will be alright." Of course, everything was not really, perfectly, alright. That infernal man had stopped her from amassing her true power, and forces they be prevented her from rightfully retrieving them until after the Vytal festival. Oh, the wait only grew longer.

Oh, how she dreaded the idea of going to school of all places! Yet, a good disguise required background, and for these circumstances, the best disguise was needed. Yet that wasn't the worse part.

The worst part was that she had to lie to Lionheart; how she couldn't say with an honest heart her full powers, and instead had to settle with satisfactory bluffs. Of course, the fact that she wasn't able to murder the Fall Maiden would've brought hope to Lionheart's heart. And if there's one thing that you never let a coward have, it's hope.

At the very least she had 'persuaded' Lionheart to give her the bomb's detonation codes in her scroll. She could jump at any time she felt like. She could be responsible for the tragic failure of the students around her.

Ooh the power.

As she stared out into the big, blue sky, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Um, miss?" The guy was big, yet seemed to try and shrink into his own height. How pathetic; some coward not realizing the power within those fists.

She gave him an innocent glare. "Yes, what is it?"  
"I was wondering, do you know when this thing will blow up? I mean, I know it's random and all…"  
"Shush," She covered his mouth with a single finger. As if being watched, she looked around the Bullhead. "Do you want me to tell you a secret?"  
"Okay?"

She madly grinned, "I have friends in Haven, and they've given me the exact time this Bullhead will blow."

His eyes flew up in disbelief, "Really?"  
"Yes, really," She continued, "And I can tell you with certainty, that this Bullhead won't blow up for another minute."

"Really? Um, thanks! I'll make note of that!" On that note, he went back into the crowd within the Bullhead.

 _How gullible, not even mentioning how stupid such an idea sounded,_ Cinder thought to herself, barely able to hold back a grin.

It was then, she decided, that the time had come.

Making sure that Imbecile wasn't looking, she jumped off the Bullhead in a glorious fashion. And when she was sure she was out of range, she pressed the detonation codes in her scroll.

With that, the Bullhead transformed into a giant fiery ball of destruction, accompanied by the wail of students inside.

Just like Salem told her, make sure everything goes as planned.


	6. Chapter 5: Partnered up

Chapter 5: Bone appetite.

-?-

She sensed that he was nearby. As she walked through the maze of scrap, the sounds of gunshots became more distinct. Mixed in with the sound of flesh being torn apart, and the occasional bloodthirsty rage, she could guess that he was in some intense combat. She hoped so, anyway. The stronger, the better. As she ran towards the sound of battle, she hoped that, whoever this person was, they were strong and stoic. Not because they were hot or anything (yeash, stereotypes), but because they usually had the hardest lives growing up. Want evidence? When Ironwood was still a teen, he lost an arm. Only after that did he rise to the rank of a Paladin in the Atlas Military. Ozpin? He was an orphan before becoming one of the youngest headmasters of a school, ever.

She could go on, but her point was proven. Besides, she needed to remain vigilant. Anything could attack her at any time. As if on cue, a Boarbatusk was launched at her. Before she could even think, she swung Bullcan at it; using its surface to drive the beast into the ground, smashing it back into whatever hellish goop it was made out of. When she was finished, she lifted her mace of the ground, and heard a slow clap. She turned her head, and found out was clapping for her.

It was him. That damn chatter box on the Bullhead. She thought he'd gone down with the Bullhead. Apparently, he survived. At least he was tough.

"Soo…I guess we're partners now?" He asked, tucking away the massive sword behind him. She simply looked him dead-straight in the eye.

"I'll take that as a yes. You heading in that direction?" he pointed towards a large mesa-like structure in the distance. Strangely, though, smoke was rising out the top of it. "I saw the smoke, and I thought I'd investigate. It's the shortest way to the extraction point, anyway." He began to trod away, until he remembered she existed. "Hey, you coming?" Her gut twisted in a guilt like way. She hated these kinds of questions, the guilt of not being able to answer them. Yet, there wasn't much she could do about it. All she could do was move on. With that, she followed on behind the guy, the feeling of guilt eating her insides. Staying silent.

The guy took it the wrong way. "Yeash, who pissed in your cereal?", and they began their trek to the mesa.

-Russel Samestine-

Whoever his "partner" was, she didn't talk much, All she ever did was look ahead of her, smashing the occasional grim with that stick of hers. At least it seemed like a stick. It was more like this cylindrical hexagon block with a handle at the end, and a hole at the center. Probably for, whatever the thing fired. Russel suspected he ticked her of or something, but he couldn't say what it was. Maybe it was that she was a faunas; the obvious horns on her head made her species definite. Maybe it was that joke he made on the Bullhead about Faunus. Really, he didn't hate Faunus; he just liked the joke

Speaking about jokes, Bulhead, bull-Faunus. Heh

Besides that, he had no other encounters with her. The only solution, as far as he was concerned, was to ask her.

"Soo, where're you from?" Silence.

"Why'd you want to go to Haven?" Silence.

"Any friends or family becoming Huntsman?' Silence.

At one point, he actually tried to tickle her. When she wasn't looking, he grabbed a feather from the pile of junk, and rubbed it against her neck. She hadn't been anticipating this apparently, and literally hauled his ass several meters into a wall. If she felt any remorse from it, she didn't show it.

Finally, he couldn't take the silence anymore, and blocked her from advancing any further.

"Okay, I don't know why you're giving me the silent treatment, but I like to know my partner on a personal basis." In defiance, he sat down. "So I'm not going to move until you at least tell me your name!" In retrospect, this girl looked like she was undeniable 6ft tall. Compared to him, it wasn't even a David or Goliath. It was just a Goliath to soccer ball. He had a vivid image of her kicking him all the way to Atlas, and was terrified at the prospect. Though she just sighed, picked him up like a kitten, and carried him over her shoulder.

"Well, at least you really do think we're a team…" He muttered to himself, as they began to trek towards the metal mesa ahead of them.

\- Sao Suno-

She had to find him first. Find Baer. Because the due was either crying himself to tears right now, or stuck in the fetal position, or UGH, too many things could've happened to him. Call her overprotective, but Baer had a knack for getting into trouble. The guy nearly got himself blasted by a rocket engine during a field trip. For context, he 'accidently' got through several heavily armored doors, scientists, guards, and cameras, without being seen. Despite bad luck not being his semblance, it certainly could've been. That would've made much more sense. On top of his childlike nature, the guy was a disaster waiting to happen.

That's why Sao was literally running through a battlefield. Already in teams, to-be-students were fending of horde after horde of grim. A bullet grazed her red hair, a claw nearly scraped her chest. She was running in fear that, if she stopped to stab a single Grim, she would spot some lone individual, and get instantly pared with him. Sure, she was blind, but she didn't think that would be a fair enough excuse. Besides, her partner would already be a witness-enough to prevent her from switching teams. Grim feces, she hated the damn rule.

She rushed through, searching through person after person. Their smells, voice, anything that matched Baer's. But nothing. Finally, she had to face the inevitable, as a Death Stalker the size of the average car came to face her. Its golden stinger came down on her. She strafed to the side, thrusting her spear into one of its eyes. She hit her mark, as black mist began to seethe out of the eye socket. She then went for the other eyes, hoping to even the play-field. Yet, one of its crab claws nailed her in the gut, and sent her flying. She dug her spear into the ground, using the momentum to swing back at the Grim, and stab one of its legs.

Too late, she realizes. The Stalker's tail is reared back-ready to strike, and she has just left herself open. As the beast brings it down though, some object slams it to the side, directing the force of the stinger onto the Grim itself. It yells out in pain, as the object, rather person, uses their weapon to smash the point deep into the Stalkers flesh, finally killing it. As it begins to dissolve, Sao tried to focus on who it was, and was genuinely stunned by who it was. The guy turned to face her, a bicycle slung over his shoulder.

"It's dead." He commented.

"Sure could see that Sherlock…" She would leave him, but they were 'partners' now. She turned to face him, but he was already leaving. " are u going?"  
"To the middle. It's where we're supposed to go!"  
"No you idiot! You're partners with me now! Lionheart said so!"  
As if to solidify his idiocy, the man looked around, for lionheart.

"I don't see him anywhere," he kicked the decaying corpse beneath him, "Is he hiding in here?"

"You, augh!" Already angry, Sao simply grabbed him by the shoulder, and dragged him along. His response?  
"Okay" he replied, his face a complete tapestry of nothingness.

Flustered, she decided to pull out her scroll. According to the map, their destination was north of here-over some massive plateu in the distance. It looked threatening-dangerous, like a stone figure watching over the whole junkyard. There wasn't much decision in the process; no going there.

"Let's go there," said her "teammate", pointing towards the death-plateu, eyes full of oblivion. Then, an idea popped into her head. Maybe she could use it to get this guy of her back. With the best fake-smile she could muster, she looked towards her wonderful teammate.

"Sure, why not?"

"Are you going to drop me yet?" This girl, whoever she was, had been climbing for the past. The whole scene reminded him of those action moves; the hero saving the damsel in distress while climbing some sheer cliff. The plateu they were climbing wasn't exactly steep, but it made up for that from the constantly shifting pile of junk that slipped underneath their feet. Rather, her feet. She had been carrying Russel for half an hour, to which no physical exertion was present. _Talk about being strong, she could probably lift a Grim._ To prove his point, a Boartahbusk suddenly launched itself at her, and she simply swatted the beasts away. It literally seemed like she was swatting flies at this point.

Finally, the brave trekker (and her bag, Russel) reached the top of the plateau. An area that revealed a breath-taking view of the whole Junkyard. The white, brown, and grey of the metal's painting the landscape like a tapestry. Russel would've thought the view was amazing, had his partner not drop him into it. He landed with a thud against the surprisingly-smooth ground.

"Really! You drop me now!" He yelled. Still no response to, anything. With a desperate sigh, he got up, and followed after her.

Or at least, he would have, if some sweet aroma hadn't swept into his nostrils. He sniffed the air again. Yes! That was the taste of cooked chicken! As deep animal urges stirred within him, nearby hiker girl only stared at him in awe, as he shoved her aside to run to what he thought was lunch. And he wasn't even imagining it! In the distance, he could see a black pot in the distance! He ran faster, ignoring the fact of why a pot was even here in the first place, or who the person was standing over it. Was it even a person? Their features seemed human, except exaggerated. As he came closer, he saw it had long locks of blonde hair, black skin, and oversized hands. He didn't mean this offensively- the thing literally had black skin. Grim black. He began to slow down, his insurmountable hunger turning into curious fear. He began to creep towards it now-noticing how its hands were decorated with bits of scrap from the junkyard, and how they oh-so-carefully stirred the pot with a massive Spork. Sounds funny, except the tips of the Spork were sharpened like swords.

And tipped with blood.

Finally, the monster seemed to acknowledge his presence, and turned to face him. At least, he thinks it was it's face. It looked humanoid, but the eyes were nothing but black Irises. It's 'ears' were coated in more scrap metal, and the mouth was wide enough to win any eating contest. Most terrifying of all, they were coated in red, like normal makeup. Unlike normal makeup, they were probably made of blood. Just like the fake blemishes it had put all over its face. It was obvious it was trying to look beautiful, but right now, "trying" was the magic word. Right now, it was just hideous.

It got worse, as the thing gave him a nice, big smile. "Finally, we have visitors to the banquet! I can finally spice up my 'special brew'! Come one, little one!" It said to him, with little emotion behind it's eyes.

And another big, nice smile.


End file.
